Decisions and Consequences
by Pocket Reaper
Summary: End game spoilers. Hawke tries her best to deal with the actions of Anders.


Her breath rang the loudest in her ears as Hawke thought she was going to crack under the pressure of the past few minutes. She stood silently with her eyes closed and her fingers to her temple, trying her best to sort through the chaos inside of her head before endeavoring to deal with more of the same outside. A plan was necessary. She wanted to run away the second the Chantry blew up but it was too late. Meredith was faster in her reaction and Hawke found herself making the hardest decision of her life; help eradicate mages like herself, or take a stand against overpowering odds. Both sides were arguing over her as if she was a thing rather than a person and she wished she was still a nameless refugee from Ferelden whose word meant nothing. For the first time in her life, Hawke had no idea how she was going to pull through as she backed up to stand next to First Enchanter Orsino, allowing the gesture to communicate the decision her lips dared not utter. The Knight-Commander understood the message clearly, and her words laced with venom could never sting as much as the hostile look Carver gave her. Without another word the Templars left to give them time to prepare before the massacre, so self-assured of their victory that they seemed to believe they could just stand by and wait a little before achieving it.

Hawke finally opened her eyes, focusing on the figure sitting on a crate in front of her. His shoulders were hunched, head lowered as if trying to shrink and disappear rather than face her. Almost a full minute passed before a thought with even a trace of coherence crossed her mind.

"Anders, I..." she began, but found herself trailing off even as she started to speak.

"Emmaline, please. You can't say anything I haven't told myself before." He didn't turn around to look at her, still frozen in the same spot he had been from the moment they were left alone. "I had to do it. There are no compromises in this war. There have to be sacrifices if I want to change the world."

Hawke furrowed her brows at the words. Was he trying to convince her, or himself? _Maybe both of us_, she thought with a heavy sigh, one hand reaching up to rub her nose.

"You should've told me what I was helping you with. You shouldn't have blackmailed me." Her words were hard, yet low. His head turned slightly towards her at this, his frown only partially disguised despite trying to control himself. She figured he was expecting her to be yelling, yet she was calm, even if her voice was shaking a little.

"I know. I was afraid you'd stop me, or worse, try to help. I didn't want to involve you, because I wanted to keep you safe."

She gave him no answer. Surely he wasn't foolish enough to think he could complete his scheme without endangering her. She was the Champion of Kirkwall after all, and she _would_ have gotten involved, whether she knew about the plot or not. Her heart ached as her gaze roamed over his back as she fought herself for a decision. She remembered their first kiss, his hesitance to open up to her. He was always so gentle, always protecting her from others and himself, fussing over every little cut or bruise she got during their errands. When grief-stricken Hawke had scrambled to grip the lifeless skull of the mage who had brutally murdered her mother, she wanted nothing but to see his face as a paste, a discolored smear of teeth, brain matter and blood strewn on the stone floor. Anders had been there to stop her, pulling her into his arms and staying by her side the entire night as relentless, coughing sobs wracked her body. He was there when she had fallen ill, a harsh Kirkwall winter taking its toll on her. Anders brought her meals he had prepared himself to strengthen her body and accept his healing spells. Years passed and even though she knew just how dangerous he could be when he lost control, she found herself wandering around aimlessly in her estate when he wasn't there.

Her memories started skipping towards the present then, stopping at the day he broke her heart. He warned her, Hawke knew perfectly well. She knew how devoted he was to his principles. Still, it weren't his words spoken that killed her on the inside, but those unspoken. He was hiding something from her, something that weighed heavy on his shoulders as she caught him sitting alone multiple times, his features a twisted mask of worry. Anders' words and actions made complete sense to her now and giving the remains of the Chantry still aflame one more look, she finally believed it when he said he loved her one final time.

Without thinking, she stepped forward, touching her hand to his shoulder. The touch seemed almost to startle him and he stood finally, his amber brown eyes looking at her with surprise.

"I made you two promises the night you came to me for the first time. Do you remember them?" Her voice was gentler now, barely above a whisper but nonetheless Anders remained silent, perhaps confused as to why she was bringing that up.

Hawke gave him a sad half smile, one hand reaching up to toy with the dark navy blue feather hanging from the pads of his robes. "I promised you that you were not going to lose me and that I want you by my side until the day we die." She focused her gaze on the feather instead, finding it hard to look him in the eyes suddenly. "Well, today shows high chances of us not making it, but I want you to know that I stand by my words back then. Maker knows acting like a bastard and blowing up the Chantry were not the wisest ideas, still it is done and will not abandon you."

She looked up when he took her hand in his and placed it above his heart, his features a mixture of sadness and affection. "I told you this would all be on my head."

"I was bound to get brought into this, we both know that. At least I was here from the beginning instead of arriving after you were dragged off somewhere, or worse... If you'd been killed."

Anders tucked a crimson lock that had escaped her messy bun behind her ear with his free hand, the gesture further enforcing her belief that she was making the right decision. Still, she couldn't let go of the hurt and anger his actions leading up to his scheme caused. She roughly grabbed the wrist of his retracting hand, her eyes suddenly steely.

"Let us make something perfectly clear, though. You and I are fighting for the same cause, Anders. You don't need to put your principles above what we have between us - I would hope you trust me more than to sabotage what you believe in. I may not approve of your methods all the time, but I know just as well that the arrow must fly straight." Hawke pressed a kiss into the open palm of his hand, before adding, "Honesty is all I'm asking for."

"Point taken." Anders replied, giving her hand that was still tucked under his above his heart a gentle squeeze. "I owe you an apology for everything I've said after you helped me gather the ingredients I needed for the bomb. I panicked when you started asking so many questions. You nearly had me tell you everything and acting like an ass seemed like the easiest way out. I'm sorry."

She smirked at him, the one she usually used in their bedroom to disarm him and slipped out from his arm's reach. "Oh, you _will_ be sorry, trust me." The chaos inside of her settled somewhat and it made her chest feel lighter, but the issue was far from solved between the two of them. _One step at a time_, Hawke though as she picked up her staff that slipped out of her grasp when the shockwave of the explosion reached them and started walking towards the distant silhouettes of the rest of her party. When she didn't hear the heavier steps of Anders echoing behind her, she stopped to look back, an eyebrow arched. "Coming?"

Even from where she standing she could see the surprise on his face. "You want me to come with you to fight the Templars?"

"Right, because after all that I've just said to you, I will leave you behind to rot in a back alley." Hawke rolled her eyes, swinging her staff across her shoulder, her free hand resting on her hip. "You want freedom for the Mages? Come claim it."

The look on his face as he crossed the distance between them made her stomach flip and the kiss they shared reminded her of their first one; it lit her like a fireball and the fear of the upcoming battle eased a little. She wasn't sure the Maker would hear her after everything that has transpired, but still she prayed. She prayed for more time with the incredibly foolish man with his hands cupping her face and his lips on hers. An incredibly foolish man she loved more than anything.


End file.
